


Screwed

by engmaresh



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Age Difference, F/F, Flirting, Lapdance, Mafia AU, Older Woman/Younger Woman, Sexual Tension, Swearing, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-16 06:46:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18686260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/engmaresh/pseuds/engmaresh
Summary: After some gang activity, Chief Lin Beifong receives a visit from her mob boss sister’s entirely too attractive bodyguard/enforcer.In which Lin has a potty mouth and terrible self control, and Kuvira always gets what she wants.





	Screwed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [larissel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/larissel/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Sinners Walk These Streets](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/478468) by larissel. 



> Based on this [Mafia AU](https://thegreatunxter.tumblr.com/tagged/v%3B-the-sinners-walks-these-streets-%28mafia%29), which does not belong to me. I'm just playing in larissel's wonderful sandbox.

“No,” Lin muttered under her breath, immediately turning tail the moment she saw the young woman stride into the precinct. She slopped hot coffee over her hand and cursed. “Fuck. Fuck no.”

“Chief Beifong!”

“Nope. No, no, no.” She hated to flee in front of her subordinates, but it wasn’t like they all didn’t already know what was up. Someone whistled. It was Lu, damn him. He was going to find himself on the third shift for the next two weeks.

Lin had almost reached her office when several things happened. The sound of a body hitting metal, the loud breathy woosh of air forcefully escaping lungs. Chairs screeched and voices fell silent to the chorus of half a dozen firearms leaving their holsters. Fuck. Her fist tightened around the cup, sending more coffee slopping over the sides.

“Kuvira.” Lin didn’t even have to turn around to envision the scenario going on behind her, but she had to show some semblance of control. She was the police chief after all.

Kuvira had one of her officers pinned against his desk, his arms twisted behind his back far enough that he was sliding up on his tiptoes in a desperate attempt to relieve the pressure. The young woman pinning him seemed completely unfazed by the weapons pointed in her direction, her sharp green gaze instead fixed upon Lin.

“Yes?”

“Kuvira, please release my officer.”

With a final twist of his wrist that was likely going to leave a sprain, Kuvira let go of the man. She stepped smartly back, brushing down the legs of her sharply creased slacks, even though there wasn’t a speck of dust on them.

“Your boy here must be new, Chief Beifong. Clearly he hasn’t learned to keep his hands to himself.”

“He’ll learn now,” Lin said. “Officer Hwong!” she barked, as she gestured for the rest of her officers to put their weapons away. “Have you learned your lesson?”

The man started, cringing away from the gazes of the two women. Cradling his wrist to his chest, he looked like he was about to crawl under his desk. “Y-yes, ma’am.”

“There, see?” She turned to Kuvira. “You happy?”

“Mmm.”

Lin looked at the crushed, empty cup she still held in her hand and with a sigh, dropped it at her feet.

“Hwong!”

“Yes, ma’am!”

“Clean up this mess, then have that wrist looked at.”

“Ye—”

“Oh, just go!” she snapped, waving an irritable hand. He scuttled off.

“As for you—” She grabbed Kuvira by a deceptively well muscled upper arm and pulled her into the office. Eyes widening even as a crooked smile spread across her face, Kuvira allowed herself to be tugged along.

“Why, Lin, so forceful.”

“I’ll show you forceful,” Lin muttered, studiously ignoring the way the younger woman’s husky voice and pliancy sent her pulse racing a little faster. She shoved her into the office, Kuvira stumbling dramatically against the desk.

“Oh dear, police bru—”

“Assaulting an officer, _in_ the precinct,” Lin snarled over her, stabbing a finger in her direction. “You’re really pushing it today.”

Kuvira pushed away from the desk and closed the door with a soft click. She didn’t lock it. They both knew no one would dare to disturb them. “He asked for it. Don’t tell me you let your officers go around groping women with impunity.”

“You could have just reported it and I’d have him disciplined as necessary.”

“Right,” Kuvira snorted. “Because that’s exactly the kind punishment that’ll teach the goons you command.”

Lin’s scowl deepend. “That’s rich, coming from you. _Your_ goons just about trashed The Armada last night. Murder? Arson? Then jaywalking with stolen contraband right in front of the police blockade? I’d have expected a bit more… _class_ , really, from one of your operations.”

Over the course of her rant, the playful smirk on Kuvira’s lips faded, until she was finally wearing a frown almost as deep as Lin’s own.

“That’s the problem, Lin. That wasn’t my operation.”

“What?” The blatant admission took Lin by enough surprise that she didn’t even comment when Kuvira carefully cleared some space on her desk and perched herself on it, crossing her long legs at the knee.

“Really, Lin?” Kuvira eyes narrowed with hurt. Or rather, what Lin would have interpreted as hurt if she didn’t already know better. “I’m insulted that you’d ever think I’d run something so sloppy. How long have you known me?”

“Well, yes,” Lin muttered, unwilling to be baited or to admit to her oversight. “But aside from the arson, it had Metal Clan written all over it. The bullets, the—”

She shut up, remembering suddenly that Kuvira was one of the last people she should be giving this information to.

Too late. The younger woman leaned forward, eyes gleaming. “The what?”

Lin crossed her arms. “I’m sure you’ve had your own investigators at the scene. Hasn’t Opal already gotten her hands on whatever you’ve dug up?”

Kuvira made a face, reaching into a box of paperclips Lin had on her desk. She started clipping them together into a chain. “Opal can’t work with evidence that isn’t there. Evidence that _you_ have, Lin.”

“If you think I’m handing you official evidence, you’re deeply mistaken.”

“You don’t have to hand me anything official. Just the copies of the reports I know you’ve already made. And a bullet or two.”

“If you think I’m just going to walk into the evidence locker—”

“Lin, please,” said Kuvira in a tone that brooked no argument. She set down her paperclip chain and slipped off the desk. “Let’s stop playing around. I know everything I want is here, in this office.”

“I can’t—”

“Shhh.” Kuvira pressed a gentle finger to her lips. If Lin’s tongue darted out between her dry lips to brush against Kuvira’s skin, it was just nerves, she told herself. She tasted gun oil.

Painfully slow, Kuvira dragged her finger down, over Lin’s chin, down her throat, coming to rest against the top button of her blouse. “Why do you always put up such a fight?”

“Professional courtesy,” Lin croaked.

“Oh?” Kuvira raised a shapely eyebrow. “Well, then let me return the favour.”

Lin sucked in a breath. “I—”

“Unwind a little, Chief,” Kuvira murmured, her long clever fingers working on the buttons of Lin’s blouse, one by one. “You know it’s done wonders for Su—”

“Don’t talk about my sister,” Lin snapped.

Kuvira kissed the corner of her mouth in apology. “Please sit down.”

Lin sat. What use was there to fight any more? She dug her fingers into the well-worn arms of the chair, struggling to keep the scowl on her face as she watched the younger woman start gyrating her hips to the beat of a song only she could hear. Kuvira’s hands, bare of any ornamentation, slid over her thighs and up her sides, rucking up the hem of the sheer green blouse she wore. A flash of bare skin, smooth and pale, made Lin instinctively clench her thighs together. Goddess, what a sad, horny old woman she was, drooling at the mere sight of skin. Needing the distraction of pain, she clenched her hand into a fist.

Of course, Kuvira, despite seeming worlds away as she danced, noticed. “Don’t hurt yourself, Lin. C’mere.”

She moved closer, hips swaying, turning around so her back was to Lin. As much as she tried not to judge, Lin didn’t think highly of stripping or dancing. But she could never apply _classless_ to Kuvira, not even now. The material of her slacks drew tight over her ass, and Lin twitched as they brushed against her knees.

“You can touch.” Kuvira’s voice washed over her, smooth and rich like a good whiskey. And like a good whiskey, it unfurled a warmth low in Lin’s stomach. She uncurled her hands and reached out, tracing after the slide of Kuvira’s own hands over the curves of her ass. There was no hint of a pantyline. At her touch, Kuvira hummed a little to herself, her stance widening and lowering, so that she was almost sitting on edge of Lin’s lap.

Feeling daring, Lin dragged her hands up Kuvira’s sides, under the blouse, brushing over the smooth skin beneath. Under her hands she felt the barest twitch, remnant of a ticklish reaction long suppressed. In an impressive feat of balance, Kuvira arched back against her, still barely touching except where Lin had her hands on her. Her hair had been done up; Lin wished she’d let it down, so she could bury her face in that dark mane. She dragged her hands up higher, skimming the elastic of Kuvira’s bra, tracing under its edges.

“Mmm, patience, Chief,” Kuvira murmured. She turned around, pressing a thigh between Lin’s legs, pinning her to the chair, her arms braced against the headrest. It put her breasts in Lin’s direct eyeline. Of course she looked.

“You like the bra?”

It _was_ a nice bra, peeking over the low neck of Kuvira’s blouse. Black with a deep V, one of those strappy affairs that seemed popular with the youths these days, with bands that appeared to serve no purpose other than to accentuate certain curves and features. It worked.

 _Youths_. Goddess of mercy, she felt old.

“You’re really making me work for this, aren’t you?” Kuvira’s words drifted over her, voice dry.

Lin licked her lips. “If you gave me more than a tease…”

“Bossy, bossy.” Kuvira tsked. But she grabbed the hem of her blouse and pulled it up, over her head, tossing it onto Lin’s desk. Freeing up all that beautiful bare skin.

Lin ran her hands up that taut flat stomach. A scar here and there didn’t detract from it, in fact she sought them out, brushing her thumbs over each shiny patch of skin. Kuvira’s thigh was warm between her legs; shamelessly Lin slid a little deeper in her seat to press her throbbing core against her.

“That’s right,” Kuvira chuckled low. She leaned closer, her breath hot against Lin’s neck. “Live a little.” And she ground her thigh a little harder against Lin, her hands coming round to caress Lin’s face and neck, pulling her closer to the warm soft swell of her breasts and the stupid bra that was in the way. Hands back at Kuvira’s waist, Lin thumbed at the soft skin just above Kuvira’s hip bones, jutting above the waistband of her slacks. She dipped a thumb inside. She’d been right. No underwear.

Fuck.

And then it was over. Lin blinked, dazed and slightly confused at the aftermath of…nothing. Zilch. Nada. A wicked tease that left her wrung out, empty and unfulfilled. She clenched her legs together, suddenly aware of what she looked like, sprawled in her chair, legs spread, shirt unbuttoned to her navel.

“What the fuck was that?” she snarled, pushing herself upright, hands flying to do up her shirt.

“Professional courtesy,” Kuvira said curtly. She looked flushed, but slightly more put together despite her semi-nudity. “You think I’d screw you in your office with all your men outside? They’re probably all listening at the door.”

“ _Fuck_ you.”

“I really would, if you ever came down to Zaofu. Give you a private show, all to yourself. You look like you need it.”

“I need it like a boot to the head.” Blouse buttoned, Lin rose to her feet, sending her chair crashing to the floor. Above that noise she heard the soft scuffle of shoes. Kuvira’d been right about her men listening in. She didn’t quite dare to meet Kuvira’s eyes, to give her that victory, but the young woman wasn’t looking up anyway, carefully doing up the buttons of her own blouse.

“The evidence. It’s in that drawer over there.” She jerked her head at a battered metal filing cabinet. “Take it and leave. And don’t ever show your face here again.”

“You say that every time, Chief,” said Kuvira, tucking her blouse back into her slacks.

Lin slammed a fist into her desk. “Don’t fucking call me that!”

She strode around the table, righting her chair with another crash. Slumping back into it, she put her hands in her face and gave a low groan.

“Hey.”

The gentleness of the tone made her look up. Kuvira was standing over her, an apologetic look on her face. At this point Lin couldn’t care less about its sincerity. “The Zaofu offer. I mean it. I always do.”

“And I’ll always turn it down.”

“That doesn’t make you any less corrupt.”

Lin slammed her fists down on her desk again, this time hard enough it sent papers flying. “I’m not—I’m trying to keep this city together, dammit.”

“And you’re doing a damn fine job of it, Chief,” said Kuvira without a trace of irony in her voice. “Now I need to keep up my end.” She reached out, and Lin leaned away. With a sigh Kuvira let her hand fall, staring pensively at the door.

“I should go.”

“You’re looking at the exit,” Lin said tersely. “You have everything?” Wherever she’d secreted the evidence Lin had set aside, she could see no trace of it on Kuvira’s person. Probably stuffed it down her pants or something. Some things were better left unknown.

“Yes. We’ll share our findings with you, should they prove important.”

“Great,” said Lin, “ _really_ looking forward to that.”

“Well.” Kuvira gave her a nod, like they’d spent the entire time having a civil conversation instead of dry humping in a chair. “Take care, Chief. I’ll see you around.”

There was no one at the door when she opened it, but Lin noticed every single curious glance, every hastily redirected stare as Kuvira walked through the bullpen. Then it swung close, leaving Lin alone with what was left of her dignity. And shame, maybe, if she’d ever had any to begin with. Groaning, Lin ground the heels of her hands into her eyes. Coffee. She needed coffee.

She hastily checked her appearance in a small pocket mirror. No undone buttons, no mussed hair, no suspiciously damp spots anywhere (she didn’t have to check for lipstick, Kuvira never wore any). Plausible deniability, always a woman’s best friend.

That didn’t stop Gang from doing a double take when he ran into her on the way to the coffee machine.

“What are you looking at?” she barked.

“Um…” Gang gestured as if to point, then seemed to think better of it and drew his finger across his chest, near the collar of his shirt. “You have a, uh…”

Lin looked down. Lying across her chest, skimming her clavicles, was the paperclip chain Kuvira had been fiddling with.

“Hey Chief!” Lu again. She needed to gag that man. “Nice necklace!”

“Fuck off!”


End file.
